GAK

BITACLE.ORG steals content. JESUS GLEZ is a THIEF. If you are reading this post on BITACLE.ORG, you are supporting theft of intellectual property. This post was written and copyrighted by BLOG ANTAGONIST, who has not given consent for material to be reproduced. Please visit BLOGS ARE STUPID to enjoy this content LEGALLY.

I am going for a Lasik consultation today. And while I'm thrilled beyond words at the prospect of being free of the glasses I have worn for 30 years now, I am not looking forward to the procedure, the pre-procedure procedures, and the post-procedure procedures. I have a procedure phobia, you see. And because of this phobia, I am a chronic doctor avoider.

I had to have my gall bladder removed several years ago. This used to be fairly major surgery, as a large incision had to be made, and the liver discombobulated quite a bit to gain access. Both my mother and my sister have huge scars from their cholescysectomies and took weeks to recover.

But these days, they do this procedure laparascopically. It's minimally invasive, with a much lower pain quotient, and much faster recovery time. It's a piece of cake, is what my doctor told me.

Still. People were going to poke things into me and cut things out of me, and I didn't like it one bit. Not to mention that I could go to sleep and never wake up.

The night before the surgery, I didn't sleep a wink. I was so anxious I was on the verge of vomiting all night long. The day of the surgery, I played it cool for my kids, but I was a nervous wreck. In pre-op, they gave me a sedative to calm my nerves. My blood pressure was too high because I was freaking. The flock. Out. They couldn't put me under until my pressure was down. I suggested an epidural, thinking this would allow them to operate while easing my fears about waking up dead. They laughed. I wasn't joking.

They gave me another dose, and another. Finally the anaesthesiologist told me he couldn't give me anymore. I lay on the metal operating table naked, which, as you can imagine is thoroughly relaxing, and tried to will myself into a state of non-hysteria. Finally, my pressure came down and they could begin.

Twenty minutes later I was in recovery. All that anxiety for twenty mintues. Once I realized I wasn't dead, I felt pretty foolish about my behavior. I hurt like hell, but not as bad as I expected. I got up to use the bathroom five minutes after waking. Then I wanted to get as far away from that place as possible. I think I went home an hour after the procedure. I had none of the gas pains that some people experience from having laparascopy. I recovered very, very quickly, and I was really amazed, and embarassed, by how easy it had been.

You would think that would have eased my fears a bit in regard to surgery. You would be wrong.

So now I have opted to have my eyes surgically altered by a laser. Crazy. And what's crazier, is that I have to lie there awake and watch as the laser beam vivisect my eyeball. There isn't enough Versed in the world. And yet, I am voluntarily undergoing this procedure.

Today they will dilate my pupils and take all kinds of measurements. No biggie, right? And yet I look upon this with almost as much dread as the procedure itself. I. hate. doctors. I. hate. procedures. Of any kind.

BUT...to wake in the night and be able to see the bedside clock...to not have to feel my way to the bathroom...to see my husband during sex....to be able to wear fashionable sunglasses and have multiple pairs to suit every fashion need and every whim...to not have to stick torturous plastic dinner plates in my eyes and carry bottles of artificial tears in my purse, my glove box, the beach bag, the gym bag...

I can't even imagine that kind of FREEDOM.

Is it worth a little anxiety? Hell yes.

Wish me luck.